‘Hyper-realism.’ I look at the writing of Paul, I mean, as he is writing. ‘Dear Epap,’ he writes. Epap, that is the nickname given to Epaphroditus. ‘Remember to be writing to someone at all times,’ Paul slowly spins the pencil. Then sharpens it.
‘In the form of your writing there is literature,’ Paul continues. His greasy forehead shines in the light. ‘The stories are not just the characters- the ideas, the stories are on the page.’ Paul sits back a little, then rests his hands to the side of the page. He looks at his arm.
‘In the form of your writing there is history,’ Paul continues. His head is sweating a little under the candle-light. ‘The writing on the page is not just literature- empty formulas, there is a history to each and every period and space.’ Paul takes out a ruler and draws two margins. He begins to write again.
‘Remember to be writing to someone at all times,’ Paul takes out a compass and draws a circle. In the circle he writes, ‘to write is life. We start with reality and work out from there.’